


Baggage Is More Entertaining Than You

by ColetheWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Airplane Sex, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Steo, Steo Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: Stiles gets seated next to Theo on a senior year class trip. Sexy times ensue.
Relationships: Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 10
Kudos: 170
Collections: Steo Day 2020





	Baggage Is More Entertaining Than You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Steo Day 2020! Woot!!! This is something short and sweet. I really wanted to do something with either a bus or airplane and decided on an airplane. Lol!
> 
> Enjoy! :D

“ _Attention_ —we are now boarding flight 723, our non-stop flight from Beacon Hills, California to Tokyo, Japan. Please make your way towards the entry gate for boarding. Thank you.” A man calmly announced over the loudspeaker. 

“Fucking finally!” Stiles breathed, leaping up from where he had been miserably stuck waiting around thanks to an unexpected two hour delay. His tailbone was already sore from sitting in wait and there was still an eighteen hour flight on the docket. 

It was the end of the merry month of May, which meant that graduation ceremonies had already commenced throughout the country. Beacon Hills High was no exception. Stiles’ high school days were officially behind him and he had not one ounce of interest in reliving those miserable walks down the stuffy old hallways of the campus. And whilst university loomed on August’s horizon, all Stiles wanted to think about was his special senior year trip to Japan. It was a little reward for all the hardship, though Stiles was certain the flight’s duration would be torture.

“I’m totally psyched for this.” Scott said cheerfully, swinging the weight of his backpack over his shoulder. “I haven’t even been out of California before.”

“I’m still trying to figure out whether or not a trip to Japan makes up for years of eating that horrible cafeteria food.” Stiles laughed, strolling alongside Scott’s movement. 

“Do you think airplane food will be any better?”

“Ah—fuck, I forgot about that.” Stiles groaned. “Thanks for reminding me about that.”

Stiles and Scott casually shuffled behind the large crowd of their fellow graduates as they made their way closer and closer to where tickets were getting scanned by attendants. It was a rowdy bunch, but hey—excitement was usually linked up with the promise of a fun vacation. And luckily, a majority of the rowdiness was quelled on account of the fact that everybody already had assigned seats. There wasn’t any reason to storm the airliner to grab the best place to sit for the next eighteen hours. 

“Dude, what if you end up getting stuck sitting next to Jackson or something?” Scott snickered. 

“Nah—didn’t you hear?” Stiles scoffed. “Pretty boy passed up the school issued ticket and bought his own first class spot.”

Stiles thumbed anxiously at the ticket in his hand as he neared the entry gate. He wasn’t scared of planes, but he was just the slightest bit annoyed that he still didn’t know who he was going to end up seated with. Scott had been lucky to find out that he shared a row with Danny, but Stiles hadn’t been so lucky in the month leading up to the trip. Allison and Lydia were together. So were Boyd and Erica. And naturally, Jackson was first-class. But Stiles was just hopeful his plane buddy wouldn’t be somebody that smelled like rotting garbage.

“Excuse me, can I get your ticket?” One of the kind attendants asked, holding out her hand to take Stiles’ ticket. 

“Yep!” Stiles chirped.

“Oh—Row 32.” The attendant confirmed. “We have two parents with seats in Row 33 who were inquiring about possibly getting their kid a seat in your row. If you’re not opposed to giving up your seat, we can upgrade you to an empty seat in first-class.”

“Dude, you just lucked out.” Scott whispered encouragingly. 

Stiles felt a bright smile burn across his face. There was no way in Hell that he was about to turn down the shot at trading his seat for an upgrade to first-class. And despite the fact that he’d miss out on the opportunity to find out who had the seat next to him in economy, Stiles really didn’t care all that much. He eagerly traded in his ticket and got escorted to his new seat, mentally running through how fucking hysterical it would be to get plopped down right next to Mr. Asshole Whittemore to watch the smug look of entitlement get slapped off his face. 

But just as soon as the stewardess stopped in the middle of the aisle to point Stiles in the direction of his new seat, Stiles was the one who got the smug look slapped off his face. In fact—his whole body went cold and his teeth seemed to itch with frustration. No. No way. Karma couldn’t work that quickly, could it? Maybe there was still time to call back the stewardess and take back his old seat. Fuck those random parents and their unfortunately seated kid. 

“I think this flight got a lot more interesting.” Theo laughed, staring up to where Stiles was standing motionless in the middle of the aisle—refusing to take his place in his upgraded seat.

Yes. Jackson was terrible, but he was terrible in a television show school bully kind of way that Stiles had no qualms about facing. _Theo Raeken_ , on the other hand, was an entirely different kind of terrible and Stiles had been damn happy to put the dude in his rearview mirror following graduation. And yet—the fates above had found some kind of way to steer Theo back into Stiles’ life and Stiles was almost certain that he was about to have a full blown conniption about it. 

There was just something about Theo that got underneath Stiles’ skin and it wasn’t jealousy. Definitely _not_ jealousy. Stiles was certain of that. _Kinda._ But Stiles was also certain that his hatred of Theo started back in the fourth grade when little Theo Raeken got introduced in the middle of the school year as a new student and then immediately tried to weasel his way into the friendship that Stiles had already built with Scott—purposely causing problems and doing his best to be an insufferably smug little brat. Stiles had hated every minute of it, right up until the move from elementary school to middle school put an end to Stiles ever having to see Theo’s face….that was…..until junior year of high school. 

Stiles was pretty sure that Theo was some kind of curse that he just couldn’t manage to shake. It was like everywhere he turned he came face-to-face with Theo’s smug smirk. And it didn’t help that Theo was actually attractive now, either. Theo had ditched his geeky glasses and braces from the elementary days. Now he was all muscular and stylish and his voice was all deep and raspy for no good god reason. 

“I hope that you know it’s illegal to sneak onto a plane.” Stiles sneered as he reluctantly took his seat right next to where Theo was already comfortably sitting next to the window.

“I’m not worried about it.” Theo scoffed. “I got my ticket fair and square.”

“What—did you threaten the stewardesses with physical violence until they agreed to get you bumped up to first class?”

“Nope.” Theo shook his head slightly, trying not to laugh. “I won the principal’s end of the year raffle. One special first class ticket for the senior year trip for one lucky student.”

“And you were that lucky student?”

“I hope you know that I’m not the in-flight entertainment, dude.” Theo laughed. “I’m not going to play twenty questions with you until we touch down in Tokyo.”

_Whatever._

That was perfectly fine. Stiles didn’t care. In fact—Stiles had much better things to do with his time than sit around and bother talking to one of the most frustrating people he knew. Silence kept much better company anyways. It also held less potential for sparking up a bickering match, because if there was one thing that Stiles didn’t want to do, it was raising alert to a secret air marshal that would end up holding him in the back of the plane for punching Theo in his stupid face.

The flight took to the air at precisely four-thirty in the afternoon and a sizable first class dinner was served not more than forty minutes afterward. Stiles kept quiet and to himself, trying his best to focus on chowing down on his tiny salisbury steak medallion and mashed potatoes dollop without accidentally jamming his elbow into where Theo’s muscular shoulder and bicep was squeezed uncomfortably close to him. It was a troubled task, but Stiles managed to keep his cool despite Theo’s inability to keep his arm on his side of the dividing armrest. 

As the rest of the first class cabin chattered about and engaged themselves in their own conversations, Stiles continued to avoid Theo like the plague. He didn’t even want to make nice for the sake of having something fun to do for hour upon hour. Stiles found solace in all of the available music he had stored up on his phone. And when that grew tiresome, Stiles moved towards the games on his phone, followed by drowsily watching the boring in-flight movie—which was some kind of wildlife documentary. And when it all got too much to handle, Stiles dozed off for an unexpected nap that lasted way longer than a nap was supposed to last. 

Four hours later, Stiles was jolted out of his longer-than-expected nap to the sound of Theo clearing his throat matched by a few anxious nudges against his knees. Stiles groaned out and eased out of his slumber, rubbing the sleepy haze out of his eyes. He was just a tad bit disoriented and momentarily confused about where the hell he was. The first class cabin’s lights were dimmed and the grand majority of the fellow passengers had turned in for some sleep. But once Stiles caught sight out the porthole window besides where Theo was standing, Stiles realized that he was suspended above the dark Pacific Ocean in the middle of the night. 

“Dude, move your knees.” Theo whispered. “I gotta take a leak.”

“Well then go take a fucking leak.” Stiles grunted, shifting his knees around so that Theo could scoot on by to get into the plane’s aisle. 

Stiles ran his hands down his face and then stretched—extending his arms and legs out as far as he could manage without injuring himself. But damn, he felt locked up from lounging back in such a stifling position. But with everybody else in the cabin sleeping, Stiles knew that he could get away with a quick stretch-session without accidentally bumping into anybody or blocking the way for stewardesses and their service carts. So, he slid out of his seat and took a firm stand to let his muscles loosen. 

A few moments later, somebody pat Stiles on his back, leading him to spin around to see who it was. And of course—it was Theo returning from his bathroom break. But he wasn’t alone. He had a smirk painted across his face and was holding five tiny bottles of vodka in his hands. Stiles stood there in bewilderment for a moment as Theo reclaimed his own seat. Where the fuck did he get alochol? Did he stash it somewhere in an overhead compartment and just waited for the perfect opportunity? Was Theo really bold enough to knock off some alcohol from a bar cart?

“Where the fuck did you get that?” Stiles asked in a hushed, but serious tone. He sat back down in his own seat, making sure to keep an eye out for any wandering stewardesses. But there were none. 

“Some old ass couple back there near the bathrooms fell asleep without finishing their juice.” Theo snickered. 

“So, you’re gonna get drunk? With seven more hours left until we land?” Stiles asked. 

“No—I’m nice enough to share with you.” Theo snickered. “Plus, some of these bottles are already half empty.”

There was a twinge of hesitation inside of Stiles’ mind that told him not to even bother, but there was another piece of Stiles’ mind that desperately wanted something to do. The excitement of flying to Japan had largely worn off within the first few hours and all Stiles really wanted to do was touch back down onto the ground and get into a hotel with comfortable beds. But in the meanwhile, knocking back a couple sips of alcohol was the only interesting thing available to do. And since Theo went through such trouble...Stiles had no reason to refuse. 

Surprisingly, the little stolen bottles held a lot more vodka than they seemed capable of holding. Naturally, it all tasted like shit, but once the effects started to noticeably kick in, Stiles relaxed a whole bunch. Hell—even Theo became more tolerable. Stiles almost instantly realized that Theo didn’t seem all that punchable anymore whilst under the slight bit of influence. Maybe seven more hours of sitting next to the guy wouldn’t be _that_ miserable. 

“Bother telling me why you wanna strangle me so much?” Theo blurted, slightly hushed. 

Both Stiles and Theo were feeling just slightly buzzed but a whole lot more relaxed. They both eased far back into the cushion of their seats and zoned out every couple of seconds as they felt their attention get swiped by the chill humming of the airliner’s engine. But Stiles was up for conversation. It was the least he could do to thank Theo for sharing some of his stolen booze, because an actual thank-you was most certainly out of the question. 

“Cause you’re a dick.” Stiles grunted softly, knocking his head back into his seat’s padding. He crossed his arms and let his eyelids flutter shut. He wasn’t that tired, but he could nap again if he wanted to. There was something so draining about keeping his eyes peeled open in the dry air of the dim cabin. 

“I thought you liked dicks.” Theo snorted. 

“—and clits.” Stiles noted casually. “But I’m pretty sure everybody at school knows I swing both ways.”

“I did.” Theo acknowledged. “But I kinda just wanted to hear you say it.”

Stiles scratched at his neck, keeping his eyes closed. “Why? Do you get some kind of thrill when people come out to you?”

“A little, yeah.” Theo said. “People don’t usually trust me that much.”

“I don’t.” Stiles snorted. “But I also don’t care who knows, so…”

“Okay, so you’re braver than most.” Theo said. “That’s some respectable shit.”

“Damn right….” Stiles clicked his tongue softly. “....so, uh—where’s my thrill?”

“What are you talking about?”

“My thrill.” Stiles reaffirmed. “You got a thrill from me coming out to you, so what _thrill_ are you giving to me?”

Theo laughed. Stiles really was a little shit, but it was enjoyable. And it was only fair that the favor be returned. After all, Stiles didn’t have to say shit—but he did. And Theo wasn’t afraid to talk about who he was and who he liked. Nobody ever asked, so Theo never had a real reason to talk about it. But there Stiles was—asking for it. So casually, too. 

“Strictly dick.” Theo chimed, keeping his voice low so as to not disturb the surrounding passengers. 

“I know.” Stiles laughed, totally proud of himself. He smiled brightly and even though his eyes were still closed, he could so vividly imagine the shock on Theo’s stupidly attractive face. 

“No you didn’t.” 

“Yeah—yep.” Stiles said. “We literally have lacrosse practice together and you think I haven’t seen you take a quick glance at Jackson….or Boyd….or Liam. Dude—you’re an open book.”

“So you’ve checked me out in the shower then, huh?” Theo asked smugly. 

Stiles’ face furrowed. “What the fuck? No—no, I’ve never checked you out.”

“Oh—so, you’ve just so happened to _see_ me checking out guys, but haven’t actually _seen_ me doing the said checking out?”

_Whoops_. Stiles walked straight into that one. He didn’t even see it coming, but as far as he was concerned, it was totally the fault of the couple tiny bottles of vodka. Normally, he was at the top of his game when it came to getting tripped up with words and sneaky conversation maneuvers. But fine—Theo won. A whole grand prize of getting to know that yes, he was attractive, and yes...Stiles thought so just as much as the rest of the old lacrosse team left behind after graduation. 

“Fine—yes, I’ve checked you out before.” Stiles admitted, not even bothering to look over to where Theo was surely smirking with victory. “You’re very…..you’re very….. _fit_ ….and stuff.”

“Well don’t pussy out now.” Theo pushed. “What’s _‘stuff’_?”

Stiles let out a long exhale of breath and adjusted the way that he was sitting in an effort to get more comfortable. He tightly the grip that he had on either of his biceps, still keeping his arms crossed in a somewhat defiant manner. But his brain was a little fuzzy and the words ‘why the hell not’ kept fluttering through his mind. Because really—what did it hurt to pump Theo’s ego just a tad bit more? 

“You exercise….and stuff…..it shows.” Stiles grunted, clearing his throat. “Your biceps weren’t that much of a surprise when I first saw you shirtless….you, uh—your shirts don’t hide anything….like, not even a little.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles said. “And uh—I might have thought about your chest a couple times, here and there, during personal times…..nothing too crazy, but your tits are kind of perfect.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh and your thighs—damn, your thighs…” Stiles added, absentmindedly biting at his bottom lip at the thought. 

“Mm.”

“And your dick, you dick.” Stiles snorted. “I’m still not sure if you’re a grower or a shower—”

“Mmhmm grower.” Theo muttered, sounding slightly airy and breathless. 

“Ha—!” Stiles panted out, letting his eyes flutter open as he turned to look at where Theo was still sitting directly beside him. “—really, a grower, ha—that’s kinda—”

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, unable to finish his own praise. He couldn’t even believe his own eyes. Maybe it was the tiredness. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Stiles was almost certain that he was hallucinating or dreaming—but no, he wasn’t. Theo was sitting right there, right where he was supposed to be sitting, with his head tipped back, eyes closed. Except, Theo’s pants were undone and the boy had his fingers wrapped firmly around the girth of his own cut eight inches, languidly stroking himself. 

“Holy—” Stiles muttered under his breath. He was in disbelief. He looked around the surrounding cabin to see if anybody else was seeing what he was seeing, but luckily, everybody else was asleep. “—fuck, what are you doing?”

“I couldn’t—” Theo swallowed hard, swiping his thumb across the leaking slit of his cockhead. “—couldn’t help myself, dude.”

“What if somebody sees?”

“Is it bad that I don’t even care right now, dude?” Theo groaned softly, canting his hips upward. “I don’t even know what came over me—I think it was your voice. It’s hot, especially when it’s talking about me.”

Stiles didn’t know what to do, but he could feel himself getting hard in his pants. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Theo’s huge cock and the way that it pulsed and throbbed and dripped in the grasp of his hand. Without even thinking, Stiles undid his own pants and pulled his own cock out into the open surroundings—making sure to shoot a few glances around the dimly lit cabin to see if anybody was about to sound the alarm. But the coast was still clear. 

“ _Jesus_ —I can’t fucking believe I’m about to do this.” Stiles muttered under his breath, wrapping his own slender fingers around his own throbbing length. 

“Oh shit.” Theo said, looking down to where Stiles’ own cock was gleaming with precum under the dim overhead lights. “You’re huge.”

“You’re thicker.” 

“You’re dripping more than me.”

“Yeah, well—well—fuck, I don’t even know.” Stiles said, completely scatterbrained. His body felt so good and his cock wouldn’t stop pulsing inside of his grasp. He kept stroking himself, utterly lost to how fucking hot Theo looked stroking next to him. “Shit—let’s trade.”

It was as if the two had done it before. Stiles wrapped his fist around Theo’s cock and Theo wrapped his fist around Stiles’ cock. They both started to stroke each other with deep, passionate tugs—twisting their wrists just slightly as they stroked upward, making sure to drag the pad of their thumbs across each other’s sensitive cockhead. Neither of them were that experienced with giving a handjob to somebody else, but they were guys—both of them had jerked themselves off plenty of times. It was basically the same game. They knew what felt good.

Eventually, their stroke games diverged into two separate directions. Whilst Stiles kept his strokes languid and delicate, Theo decided to do the complete opposite. Theo jerked Stiles off with a fierce hunger. His palm was hot and tight around Stiles’ throbbing length. Stiles was leaking all over the place, spilling precum down the whites of Theo’s knuckles. And Theo used every bit of strength that he had to _not_ let up on his rhythm in exchange for the chance to bring his hand up to his own mouth for a taste for what Stiles had to offer. 

They kept at it for a solid ten minutes, beating each other off without any regard for the surrounding passengers. Although, Stiles did make sure to keep an eye out for anybody coming down the aisle. But the two were mainly free of interruptions—free to continue their lewd play in the shadows of the dim plane. But as the minutes continued to tick on by, fatigue quickly found itself in either of the two’s wrists. There had to be something else for them to do. 

Theo was the first to pull his hand away from where it had been wrapped around Stiles’ beautiful length. Although, it was much to Stiles’ own displeasure. The lack of stimulation drove Stiles into a brief spout of frustration. It felt so good—he didn’t want it to stop. It couldn’t. The last thing that he wanted to do was have to pleasure himself. Not when Theo was right there to help him out. It was so much hotter that way, anyways.

“Ah—dude, come on.” Stiles groaned defeatedly, watching as Theo withdrew his hand. “I’m super fucking close already, just keep jerking me off for a little bit longer….”

But then just as soon as Stiles opened his mouth to complain some more about Theo’s decision to quit the mutual handjobs deal, Theo pushed the dividing armrest between their seats up and out of the way and switched up his positioning. And before Stiles could even figure out what the fuck Theo was trying to do, he watched in shock as Theo craned downward—pushing his head directly down into Stiles’ crotch—taking Stiles’ cock into his mouth without issue. 

“ _Fuckfuckfuck—_ ” Stiles cried, trying to keep his voice as hushed as possible. His hand instinctively shucked down to grab onto the back of Theo’s head for some extra guidance—not that Theo needed it. 

Theo was skilled as fuck, much to Stiles’ surprise. He took Stiles’ cock down to the root without as much as a stifled choke. In fact, the only noises that Theo let slip out of his thoroughly stuffed throat were impressed and pleasured hums and moans. He bobbed his mouth up and down on Stiles’ dick, swallowing down every inch that the freckled-face boy had to offer. His eyes stung with tears each and every time that Stiles’ cockhead punched into the back of his throat, but Theo took it all—finding pleasure in the taste of Stiles’ precum. 

Stiles tipped his head back in pure delightly, still unable to fully grasp what the hell was actually happening. It felt like it was some kind of raunchy porn dream come to life, but it was real. He actually had Theo fucking Raeken’s mouth wrapped around his cock. And at the same time that Theo was slouched over in his seat, choking himself on dick, the boy had his hand wrapped around his own cock—stroking himself to the rhythm of his throat getting stuffed full. 

Suddenly, a tinkering around from far down the aisle caught Stiles’ attention—shaking him out of his mindless pleasure and how good it felt to have Theo wrapped around his dick. One of the stewardesses was making her way down the aisle with a coffee cart, trying to catch any late-night requests for something to keep them energized through the flight above the Pacific. The only problem was that Stiles didn’t need coffee and neither did Theo and holy _fuck_ —Theo wasn’t slowing the fuck down. 

“Dude—dude, the stewardess—she’s coming, fucking pull up—dude, she’s coming….she’s coming…..oh fuck, Theo—fuck, _I’m_ cumming….I’m cumming…” Stiles bit down hard onto his lip, stifling a loud moan. 

At once, Stiles’ hips involuntarily jolted upwards and he felt his massive cock start to pulse intense spurts of fresh cum down Theo’s warm throat. He could hear Theo swallow everything down in rhythmic, audible gulps. Stiles could feel Theo’s throat work around his pulsating cock. All the while, the stewardess drew closer and closer to where Stiles and Theo were sitting towards the back of the first class cabin. And yet—Stiles could barely bring himself to care anymore. 

Not more than a handful of seconds before the stewardess and her coffee cart pulled up to where Stiles and Theo were sitting in their row, Theo quickly pulled his mouth off from Stiles’ dick with a lewd pop. He swallowed down one last mouthful of Stiles’ cum and then grabbed onto one of the complimentary blankets provided by the airline, tossing it across where Stiles and Theo’s laps were bare, hard, and exposed—covering everything up just in time.

“Would either of you two like a cup of coffee?” The stewardess asked politely, pulling her cart up besides Stiles’ aisle seat, completely unaware of what was happening. 

And then, just as the stewardess finished her question, Theo sputtered out a feebly stifled exhale of quivered breath. His body gave a quick jolt and he felt his own cock spew a hot and heavy load out with quick, devastating bursts—completely covered up by the shitty complimentary blanket that rested innocently across both Stiles and Theo’s thighs. But even though Theo felt his whole body set itself ablaze with delicious pleasure, he tried his best to keep composure. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The stewardess asked, looking over to where Theo was squirming in his seat—red in the face, slightly sweaty, and completely out of breath. 

“Yeah, yeah—he’s fine.” Stiles said, looking equally as debauched. His hair was matted down and an unmistakable blush was smeared across his freckled face. “I don’t think dinner agreed with us.”

“Is there anything that I can get you?” 

“No—I think we’re just going to take it easy….keep each other company, y’know?” Stiles said. 

The stewardess nodded kindly and continued on down the aisle. Stiles and Theo both waited patiently until she was out of earshot and then collectively released the breath of air that they had been keeping tight in their lungs. Neither of them could quite believe what they had done—nor could they believe that they had gotten away with it. But the risk, itself, had made it a thousand times hotter. Both of them were still reeling from it. 

“You could’ve at least fucking listened to me when I said she was coming.” Stiles snarked, breathlessly. 

“And you could’ve at least gotten me a coffee as a chaser.” Theo snorted, throwing his head back. 

“A chaser for what?”

Theo thumbed at the side of his own mouth, wiping up a small dribble of Stiles’ cum that had spilled out from the corner of his lips. He pushed it straight into his mouth and swallowed it down with an enthusiastic gulp while Stiles watched. Theo winked, rolling his shoulders, and then smacked his lips—letting Stiles’ taste linger on his own wicked tongue, unafraid to relish in his own talent. 

“For that.” Theo said.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you guys enjoyed! As always, I appreciate comments, critiques, suggestions, and kudos!!! Thanks for reading!


End file.
